


Pick Your Poison

by JD_Centric



Category: Summer of 84 (2018)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Hinted sexual content, Holiday Blues, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:41:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JD_Centric/pseuds/JD_Centric
Summary: Snowed in the middle of nowhere on Christmas Eve, Farraday and Eats have a heart to heart conversation.





	Pick Your Poison

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, my first contribution to this amazing fandom really did turn out to be Farraeats! I did not expect that!

 “ _No relationship is perfect, ever. There are always some ways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up in order to gain something greater…The love we have for each other is bigger than these small differences. And that’s the key. It’s like a big pie chart, and the love in a relationship has to be the biggest piece. Love can make up for a lot.”_

_\- Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby_

The heavy rumble of the engine paled into an ill stutter before fading into a few sudden coughs as Tommy turned the key and forced the gas pedal again; suddenly, without a warning, the engine fell dreadfully silent.

 He stared at the thick curtain of the snowfall and the fluffy cover of the flakes piling against the windshield before ever so slightly, sighing through his teeth, he turned to look at Curtis.

 “Well, we’re not going anywhere.” Tommy stated, heavily emphasizing and drawing out every word to make a point of his displeasure with their situation. Of course, he had been uptight ever since they got in the car back in Ipswich and now, a few miles out of Cape May and after a few hours of tensed silence and bitter grumbling on both parts, he was starting again.

 “What do you mean we’re not going anywhere?” Curtis repeated, staring owlishly at Tommy, the tips of his mouth turning down in a heavy scowl. His heart was stuttering much like the engine and he was afraid that it would give up on him any second with this new piece of knowledge.

 “I meant what I said. We’re stuck, we’re not going anywhere and that’s that.”

 “No, no, no. Listen, you know I have to get to the airport _now_ , Eats, so stop fooling around and get the car started…!”

 “I can’t get the car started!”

 “Yes you can, you jerk, I know you can!”

 He really couldn’t and that was one of the many unfortunate events that ruined their Christmas.

 It was December 1989, and it was the worst holiday since that horrible Christmas following the summer of 84’.

 

 Going back to Ipswich was a tradition Curtis Farraday would have never stuck with, now at twenty, wasn’t it for Tommy. Every time he returned to the old street and took the sight of the old houses, some remodelled and others with new families to occupy the once familiar walls, new kids to run in the yards where he had spent his childhood, one thing always puzzled him and left a bitter taste in his mouth. That was the sight of Tommy’s house, now a bare and mute ghost of what it used to be. And behind that house was the tree where their clubhouse had stood once, four safe walls for them to hide between when the winds became rough and sea too choppy to sail. It stood like a skeleton to remind him of the better days, devoid of flesh and spirit, and Curtis would go back to the day when they took down the clubhouse piece by piece.

 The Eatons’ home had become quiet and cold after Mrs Eaton took her leave in the 86th and Mr Eaton died of liver cancer the following year. Tommy had contemplated selling the property and moving with him to Boston for something better but he never got around to it. Curtis suspected that he had a certain fear of what leaving Ipswich would be like. He was good enough on his own between the walls covered in dents of the occasional glass being thrown into them and the floors littered with scratches left by Mr Eaton’s belt buckle.

 One of the last times Curtis had seen the house as silent had been a week before they decided to tear the clubhouse down. He had sat on Tommy’s bed, crying until his eyes became red and sore and his glasses fogged, until his throat hurt and his chest even more so as he fought to stifle the sobs and ugly cries of despair. Curtis had always been an ugly crier, thank God he didn’t do so often but when one of your best friends, the person who had been alive and well just a few days ago, breathing, laughing, joking and making plans for a future that would never come anymore, was gone, dead, and never coming back he guessed he could allow himself the privilege of grieving.

 Tommy sat on the bare floor by the bed, dreadfully quiet and scowling. He had his own way of dealing with the situation, one not so healthy, and it was only the thin glaze of tears that gave away his true feelings. He handled them the only way he knew how – by holding back the urge to cry back and ignoring the tears.

 “It has to be fine, right?” Curtis had managed to say, staring at his own shaking hands through a veil of wetness. Denial was much easier than acceptance and much less painful. “This has to be wrong, none of this can be real, can’t it…?!”

 “Wake up, Farraday!” Tommy had snapped and Curtis couldn’t have taken much offence considering his temper but he could see through the act easily. Tommy might have been angry but he was just as heartbroken and it was easy to see why both would be. Fortunately, the guilt of never believing Davey and never being there when their friends needed them most would be one that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. “It’s all real! Nothing’s going to be the same, nothing can ever be the same!”

 He was right, frankly, but they became better for the most part as time went on. Curtis would say with a dose of shame that he even forgot all about that one horror-filled summer as life spun him right and round. He graduated, got accepted into university and left the old street the year the Armstrongs sold their house and moved out of town. Tommy stayed behind, the sole survivor of a team of four, to keep watch and never let the memory die. They’d talk over the phone every other week and send letters at least once a few days. Curtis would make sure to go home every spring break. The two got a thing going just before he left for university. It was a done deal. It had always seemed that way.

 Curtis was never a liar so he would be honest now too and say that it wasn’t easy loving Tommy Eaton. Ever since they were kids, breaking through the rough outer wall of sarcasm had always been a hassle and just when he thought he had Eats figured out he surprised him again and badly. He was thankful that he never did change; whatever happened, Tommy seemed like a constant, the only one in Curtis’ life. He was rather thankful for that. Curtis had to admit, going back to the usual life and moving on after the 84th was an experience out of the reach of the worst nightmares. Tommy being there, handling the situation like nothing had changed, coaxing him into acceptance and blissful oblivion was very much appreciated. Deep down, Curtis knew that’s not what _Tommy_ needed. Piling all the hurt couldn’t be good for him…But with time, they forgot how it felt to be a kid, alone and afraid and one friend short.

 That Christmas Curtis spent a week at Tommy’s, drinking beer and enjoying the taste much more than they had a couple of years ago. The Farradays had moved out of Ipswich when Curtis moved out to Boston for university; they said it had something to do with not enjoying the weather anymore but it’s not like they moved to California so Curtis thought there was another reason. He could’ve easily stayed home, his parents were saving the house for him if he eventually thought of settling back in Cape May, but it was too big, too empty for him to feel comfortable in. And the point of his entire trip was to spend as much time as he could with Tommy, at least, until he had to leave. And that’s where it became complicated.

 “So when’s your flight back?” Tommy asked him one night as they lay awake in bed, side by side and just barely touching under the warmed sheets but not cuddling (that would come later in their sleep and just before morning they would turn away when they became too hot or Eats became too restless).

 He had been just about to doze off when Tommy’s question caught him off guard. It was very late already and the street lights had gone out minutes ago, dipping the street and the bedroom in darkness. Curtis had dropped the glasses a year ago when his vision became good enough to see with the help of lenses. He had a pair of reading glasses and his vision was still rather blurry without the lenses but he could see Tommy easily up so close. He was breathing deeply and evenly, his skin gleaming with the faintest hint of drying sweat and he, like Curtis, was half-asleep. The question had come almost as a sudden thought.

 “I…” Curtis trailed off, trying to stutter his way through a sort of explanation. “I’ll have to be back by the twenty-fifth. So…”

 “So your flight’s on Christmas Eve?” Tommy spat, almost fully awake now. He opened his eyes and lifted his head from the pillow to stare sourly at Curtis who felt his throat suddenly dry. He knew he would’ve had to say it sooner or later…Only he didn’t think it would be this soon. At least not after his fair share of loving after a few long months of sexual abstinence and basking in the afterglow of it. “And you’re saying this just now? Tell me you’re kidding.”

 “I can’t help it.” Curtis muttered, trying to smooth things out as best as he could. “It wasn’t my plan. We can celebrate a day or two early, I mean…”

 “Yeah, okay,” Tommy stopped him before he could start babbling. Curtis could tell by his snappy tone that he wasn’t at all pleased and things weren’t at all okay. “Just forget it.”

 “Are you mad at me now? I told you it wasn’t my plan…”

 “And I told you it’s fine so drop it.”

 “I know it’s not fine.”

 Tommy stared at him bitterly for another moment before huffing dismissively and turning to face the wall. Baffled by his childish behaviour, Curtis tried to talk to him again but when it was clear that that wouldn’t happen, he too turned the other way and fell into an angry, dreamless sleep. Nobody said loving Eats was easy but loving Curtis sometimes was equally hard.

 Had that exchange led to their current predicament? Curtis would say yes but it wasn’t all there was to it. They had spent the whole following week to his flight in tension and snappy remarks and it was like a pressure cooker waiting to blow up any given time. It was not the ideal way Curtis wanted to spend his winter vacation. He’d tried setting things with more conversations, then he’d played dumb as if nothing was wrong and when that seemed to get Tommy in an even worse mood and consequently ruining his own too, Curtis had tried bribing him with dinner. Of course, the only thing he’d ever cooked for himself was an unhealthy dosage of mac and cheese and had never used the oven for anything else but to warm his microwave dinner, tasting a little less different than rubber soles left out in the sun. He’d burnt whatever he’d tried to make and Tommy had yelled at him for almost ruining his raggedy oven; Curtis had yelled in turn and they had gotten in an argument. Suits Eats right for starting it. In retrospect, it was a very painful week. Maybe he should’ve booked an earlier flight…

 Tommy had been working late the day Curtis eventually had to leave and he packed on his own, left the house he had known once alone and he had gotten into Tommy’s old second-hand BMW and drove to pick him up. The wheels glided smoothly down the icy streets, coated in a very deceiving layer of soft snow. The inside of the car was cold and Curtis drove with his gloves and scarf on, fingers digging into the steering wheel. He felt the familiar ache fill him as he left the old street and the old houses, the dusk of night throwing shades across the lots he had known once and were now but ghosts of the time when he had been a hopeful fifteen-year-old. It was a form of masochism he knew, for both of them. Tommy staying behind to remind himself of what he could’ve changed; he coming back every once in a while to relive the bad memories. Ipswich wasn’t through with them just yet.

 It started snowing not long after Curtis was out on the road and while at first it was a gentle fall of soft flakes dusting his vision by the time he parked outside of the gas station Tommy worked at the white cover had made the road almost impossible to drive through. The wipers worked tirelessly to preserve the clarity of the road ahead but Curtis had to squint nonetheless to see through the heavy curtain of white. The inside of the windows became foggy as his breath became puffs of white just under his nose. It was a horrible weather and Curtis could only hope that his flight wouldn’t get delayed.

 At the gas station, he had to wait until his nerves thinned to the barest of strings for Tommy to get through with some bitter client that would be obviously late for his celebration so it was no use for him to get on another person’s nerves on Christmas Eve. Tommy came out finally, fuming with anger after the terrible argument and his irritation only grew when he saw Curtis behind the wheel of his car.

 “Get out, I’ll drive.” He demanded.

 “I’m already buckled in so I can drive just fine.” Curtis tried to say, speaking gently so he wouldn’t make things worse. It felt like walking on eggshells whenever Tommy was mad. But he had been dealing with him for as long as he could remember, Tommy’s moods had become the thing they were right in front of him…

 “Just get out of the car, Farraday, and let me drive!”

 “Okay, fine…!”

 He took off the belt and got out into the chilly blizzard before stomping around to the passenger seat. They both shut the doors, shaking off whatever snow had gathered across the windows. Tommy put the car into gear without putting on his seatbelt and they were off.

 That had happened two hours ago; now the road was nothing but an unforeseeable passage of white for as far into the night the eye could see. The two rows of trees guarding the sides were like frozen soldiers looming over the road. The engine wasn’t working anymore and the tires had gotten themselves in a very snug hole in the snow they had dug while Tommy had unsuccessfully tried to get the car started. And here Curtis Farraday was, worried out of his mind for a flight he would most definitely miss, if it even came, but nevertheless disheartened and mad. He had to be in Boston by tomorrow, no exceptions! Tommy could be mad at him, he could yell at him but let him rage all he wanted, Curtis wasn’t staying.

 He could’ve come too, his mind supplied while he stared at Tommy’s unimpressed and even bored expression, one that said fuck it and all be damned. They could’ve moved out of Ipswich and left the summer of 84th in the history books because it hadn’t been their fault and it wasn’t their chore to keep the guilt alive. They could’ve been together all year long, they should’ve had the privilege to hold each other and talk to each other whenever they wanted instead of being so far away. It was a miracle that they had managed to make their long-distance relationship last with their unruly tempers and jealousy streaks. For an outsider that might have meant they really were meant to be together but Curtis knew better and that was that the longer they stayed together the way things were, the bigger the metaphorical distance between them became. One day he would look back at all the missed chances and what Curtis feared was that the object of his blame would become Tommy.

 Things could’ve been so much different had Tommy just left, or if Curtis had stayed...

 “Well, this car ain’t going nowhere so you better get comfortable.” Tommy declared, crossing his arms and leaning back into the seat as if he had no trouble staying there in the cold while the snow created a tomb around them.

 “No, I don’t think you get it. I need to get on that plane!” Curtis persisted. He wasn’t so sure why he was wasting his breath. Tommy should have known on his own how important that flight was for him. “Are you serious?! Jesus Christ…”

 “Well, it wasn’t me who bought a ticket for the worst weather.”

 “Excuse me? You think I could’ve predicted this?!”

 “I’m just saying that I’m not the guy who got a flight on Christmas Eve…!”

 “Are you still moping about this?!” Curtis snapped. “I _tried_ to apologize and to make at least the time we had worth it.”

 “You could’ve stayed at least once!”

 “I can’t this year!”

 “You didn’t even try!”

 They went like that back and forth until Curtis finally stopped, red-faced and panting with the effort of trying to subdue the anger that threatened to spill. The wind whistled outside and Tommy made the effort of starting the car again. The engine spluttered back to life but the tires had dug themselves too deep into the snow to budge. The only good thing to come out of the working engine was the working headlights, fading out into the distance. At least he wouldn’t have to worry anymore that a monster might jump out to tackle the car…Curtis thought of Davey and his imagination suddenly, he remembered how he would twist the rules of manhunt when they were maybe ten and the game would become one where supernatural creatures would hunt them through the dark and the yards. It was a very nice childhood that they had.

 After a few silent minutes of listening to the low rumbling and whistling outside, Curtis finally got out of the car. Tommy looked up at him, puzzled. He watched him wordlessly as he walked around the car to the trunk and opened it to grab his bags.

 “What are you doing?” He asked but Curtis kept his mouth stubbornly shut. Squinting against the wind he stomped through the snow and onto the road where the faintest hints of tire tracks could be made out quickly fading. “Where are you going…?!”

 “To catch a flight.” Curtis yelled back and faintly heard the opening of the car door.

 “Farraday, get back in the car!” Tommy called after him, not as angry anymore as he was regretful. “Come on, where do you think you’re going? We’re in the middle of nowhere!”

 “I’ll hitchhike.”

 “You can’t be serious…” Muttering under his nose, Tommy chased after him through the snow, his feet sinking down to the middle of his calves. He caught up just as Curtis was about to step out of the lights, grabbed the lapel of his jacket and tugged him back. Both of them stumbled in the snow and faced each other, realising for the first time that they had come too close to forever ending whatever they had had between them.

 “Just…get back in the car.” Tommy said, a very tender, pleading note crawling into his voice. Just now did both notice how horribly cold it was in the middle of the blizzard, water soaked through their boots that had become like portable freezers and their fingers shook – Tommy’s bare in his pockets and Curtis’ numb despite the gloves. He wanted to go back in the car where it wouldn’t be much warmer but it would put an end to the madness at least. Curtis threw it a longing look, then his eyes turned back to Tommy…

 “Yeah…” He mumbled, his voice almost too faint to hear. “Okay.”

 He dragged his feet through the snow towards Tommy and then the car and after a shy, tensed moment, Tommy threw his arm across his shoulders. It was with that gesture that the ice between them melted and Curtis felt the very familiar need to walk just a bit closer to him rise, his resolve broke and his irritation and misery faded away to nothing.

 “I had something for you.” Tommy told him when they were back in the car, snow melting in their hair and clothes and cold droplets running down their necks. Their faces were red, skin irritated and itching as the blood warmed it again.

 Curtis watched him as he pulled something out the inside pocket of his jacket. It was a piece of paper, the edges curled and covered in the faintest hint of a coffee stain. There was a picture on the front, one of a festival Curtis had gone to with his parents years ago and CAPE MAY was stamped in the top left corner in capital letters. On the back, he recognised his own loopy handwriting back when it wasn’t a chain of sharp strokes that it was now. He recognised the card immediately.

 “You kept that?” Curtis gasped, fighting the urge to laugh. He couldn’t help but smile though and it made Tommy do too, staring at the postcard affectionately. “You never told me you even got it, you…”

 “I never thought you would remember sending it.” Tommy laughed. “Look, listen to this. ‘Happy birthday, Eats,’…”

 “Okay, stop, I know what it says!”

 “No, let me finish. ‘I wish you have the best birthday, I love you, signed Farraday’.”

 “Fuck you, I bet you cried when you got it! I was the only idiot who would ever fall for you.”

 They were both laughing now, reminiscing the better days when it was much harder to say I love you but it carried a significant childish innocence that either faded over time or morphed into a much deeper longing.

 “I got it late.” Tommy said when they managed to breathe again, looking down at the card. “A few months ago…Must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the post office.”

 “Then let’s hope my present this time won’t need three years to get to you.”

 “You got me something?”

 “I sent it a few days ago. So it would be here tomorrow…You thought I would forget?”

 Considering their feud, maybe Tommy was right to think he had. Curtis doubted that his own gift would be this sentimental.

 “Here, you can keep it.” Tommy handed him the postcard. “Merry Christmas.”

 Curtis plucked it out of his fingers with one hand before taking his hand in the other. Their cold fingers interlocked, palms slotting together easily. Curtis checked the time before they both looked at the road again. It was already past midnight. He had missed his flight. And it was already Christmas.

 “I just didn’t want you to go.” Tommy’s oddly soft voice tore him out of his thoughts. When he looked at him Curtis could barely recognise him. The spark in his eyes was replaced by a deeply etched grief, his face was pale, despite the light flush of having been outside in the wind. “It’s just…You’re always in a hurry, you always have to go and then it’s months until you come again. It’s not even about fucking Christmas, just…I just need you here sometimes, Farraday. Sometimes I need you here but you can’t because you’re miles away. When you told me you would have to leave so soon, I…I thought that you…”

 “I’m sorry.” Curtis found himself saying. He understood now. “I’m really sorry, I should’ve found a way…”

 “I understand how important studying is for you, okay? I get it. But sometimes I think that you’ll just forget this…forget _us_ and then…”

 Tommy’s hand smacked the wheel before he ran it down his face with a deep sigh. Curtis watched him quietly, enjoying his struggle and also not. Tommy had always had trouble expressing himself whenever he had a problem, he would much rather wait until he couldn’t deny anymore. He was the master of denial but Curtis could always notice the hints that something was up. Tommy could be very expressive when he wanted to or if people knew what to look for. Very little of them actually tried. That Tommy did on purpose, torn by doubt and trust issues even when he didn’t want to. If it weren’t Curtis, he would’ve been a hermit by now, friends and family gone. It had to be lonely. The guilt was like a bitter medicine dissolving on Curtis’ tongue and he squeezed Tommy’s hand tighter, tighter, suppressing the urge to hug him and scream apologies.

 “You know I’ll never, right? I’ll never forget you.”

 “I know…”

 “And I guess I’ll be spending Christmas here, after all.”

 Tommy reached over to turn on the wipers. Numbly, they watched them struggle with the cover of damp snow on the windshield. They were a pitiful sight and it was a very pitiful situation…

 “Well, yeah.” Tommy agreed dryly. “At least we’re together. _Stuck_. In the middle of nowhere. And did I mention the possibility of freezing to death?”

 “Shut up, Eats.”

 “Can you check the glove compartment for me?”

 Curiously, Curtis reached and opened it. Expecting another surprise or present, he felt a steady blush rise to his cheeks, before his eyes landed on the flask hidden in the back of the compartment behind a stack of music tapes, old magazines and a handful of even older speeding tickets. He laughed again.

 “You can’t be serious…”

 “Merry Christmas, _darling_.” Tommy drawled, sending him a wink. That let Curtis know that their heart to heart exchange was over. Everything bitter and bad was over.

 “You’re so…” He fought to find the right word and Tommy took his hesitance as a chance to lean in and steal a kiss. The peck turned wet and passionate easily and Curtis found himself leaning in, trying to press closer. “You’re unbelievable,” he hissed between kisses when Tommy’s hand snaked around his waist, “you’re horny _now_?”

 “I make it a goal to try out new things every year.” Tommy let him know. “And so far I haven’t tried car sex yet. There’s no better time than the present.”

 “Can I get _that_ piece of wisdom on a T-Shirt?”

 They stared at each other, panting as the heat between them rose and coiled in the pits of their stomachs as the familiar feeling of arousal crept over them. Tommy was smiling and Curtis was looking at him knowingly through his lashes, both of them speaking without words. Curtis knew what Tommy wanted, what he was hinting, goading him into, trying to decide how things could work out until…

 He bit his lip to stifle the laugh as he tried to climb into the back seat, his long limbs manoeuvring awkwardly in the tight space of the car. He almost kicked Tommy when he followed him and he barely had the time to sit down before he fit himself between his spread thighs.

 “We’ll get the seats dirty…” Curtis tried to warn, narrowly avoiding another kiss as their hands found each other again.

 “I don’t care.” Tommy breathed. Their bodies pressed together, Curtis could feel the thumping of Tommy’s heart through their jackets, through his ribs…Shaking fingers pulled down the zipper of his jacket and he would’ve protested wasn’t he so pleasantly warm.

 He felt Tommy’s teeth graze the skin of his neck, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine. He felt him shiver when the tip of his cold nose traced down his warmed skin, finding refuge in the collar of his jacket. Curtis’ breath hitched and he hissed, nearly sinking back into the leather seat when Tommy’s fingers dipped under his shirt. The sudden chill only fuelled his inner heat; his fingers tightened around Tommy’s jacket and he pulled him close before relaxing again.

 In the brief moment that they held each other, Curtis’ eyes found their way to the windshield again and he stared into the unwelcoming darkness outside where the snowstorm was raging. Tommy was wrong, he thought. He was so wrong to think he would ever forget him. He couldn’t. Ipswich was never going to be the only thing to connect them. He had no reason for regret or remorse, had no reason to ever think that he and Tommy could be anything different than what they were. Maybe they really were meant to be together, forever even, who knew. Only time would tell but they had enough of that on their hands. Yeah, it didn’t matter how far away they were or how much time passed, Curtis would always return to Ipswich. Not because he enjoyed the pain of the memories but because he longed for the pleasure of being together with Tommy Eaton. And for that he could tune everything else out, he could leave it all behind…And maybe it was time he too started trying something new every year?

 One thing Curtis could say for sure, loving each other was very hard…But sometimes it was just as easy.

**Author's Note:**

> ALTERNATIVE ENDING: "The back of his head hit the side of the door as Tommy pulled him down and Curtis hissed, not complaining as he arched into him.  
> "Hurry up..." He moaned, needy and demanding. Tommy slid after him, finding a comfortable position to cover him nicely with his own half-dressed body. His fingers patted his pockets to find a condom and he stared dreamily down at Curtis. They shared a sloppy kiss, Curtis pulling him down and groaning when he leaned up to tear the foil.  
> A sudden knock on the glass startled them both and Tommy's head collided with the top of the car as he scrambled to pull away; Curtis yelped, trying to turn around so the very visible hard-on in his pants wouldn't be that noticeable. Both of them looked up to find the very petrified face of a poor bearded man and a VW rumbling on the road behind him..."  
> -> Hahaaaa, I needed to do that! xD Anyway, I hope I kind of nailed that! I'm kind of proud of this, I've never wanted to contribute to a fandom as much as I want to give myself up for the So84 one as small as it is and I've said this before. I don't know how this turned into Farraday's perspective, I was kind of scared to try and write him because I wasn't sure how good of a job I would've done...I hope I got it done well. Eats I feel will be particularly easy for me to write, mostly because I've never seen a fictional character have so much of my own self in them. Just...I find a lot of similarities between myself and this poor kid, from his situation at home and his upbringing to the sarcasm and occasional dirty sense of humour. I'm pleased to say that I'll be writing more for these guys! If, of course, I've done well. Tell me what you think in the comments! Merry Christmas, folks, that's all for today! ^^


End file.
